


fire in my lungs, can't bite the devil on my tongue

by gossamerthoughts



Series: invisible string [5]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Episode: s05e09 Family Dinner, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Family Dinners, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Lucifer Feels, POV Chloe, POV Chloe Decker, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Shower Sex, Showers, cookcifer, lucifer is good at cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamerthoughts/pseuds/gossamerthoughts
Summary: During Earth’s Most Awkward Family Dinner, Chloe finds that dating Lucifer has unintended consequences.Deckerstar one-shot, set after season 5a finale.Chloe POV of chapter 3 (“meet hell’s most brutal torturer”) of “when a demon gets her wings.”
Relationships: Amenadiel & Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Amenadiel/Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, God & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: invisible string [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924108
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	fire in my lungs, can't bite the devil on my tongue

**Author's Note:**

> title from “midnight sky” by miley cyrus.
> 
> based on this quote from one of the Lucifer peeps: “This is a family story. Dad’s home and he’s not happy with what his kids have been up to.” [s5 ep 9, Family Dinner]
> 
> here it is, a smutty(ish) version from Chloe's POV of the Great Family Dinner. enjoy!

**From[ _when a demon gets her wings_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324566/chapters/64505269):**

_ Halfway across the city, a Miracle and a Devil are slumbering peacefully amidst grey Egyptian Cotton sheets, their limbs sweetly entangled. Half asleep, Chloe nuzzles into Lucifer’s chest, relishing in the warmth his bare skin provides. “ _ Hello _ , Detective,” he yawns, looking adorably sexy with his rumpled dark hair and rough morning voice. _

_ “Good morning, Lucifer,” she replies, unable to stop the smile spreading over her face. It warms her like sunshine, liquid gold seeping through her veins. _

_ He plants a kiss on her forehead, then rolls them over until he’s hovering above her on his palms. “Now, since we have the day off, let’s have a very  _ indulgent _ moment, shall we?” _

_ Chloe responds by grabbing his head and pulling his lips down to hers. _

_ “Oh, you  _ naughty _ girl,” he smirks, before dipping his back down and meeting her soft lips once more. He’s making his way down her lithe body, being very indulgent indeed, until — _

_ (A familiar voice invades Lucifer’s head at the most unwelcome time. _

**_Samael,_ ** _ God booms, his voice echoing rather painfully in Lucifer’s brain,  _ **_we’ll be coming over to your dwelling at 5 tonight for a family dinner. Your Miracle is invited, of course. I am most eager to get to know her.)_ **

_ “Lucifer? Is something wrong?” Chloe asks worriedly, her brow creasing in concern. _

_ “Bloody Hell,” he groans, rolling off of her. “Dear old Dad just cockblocked me. Come on, Detective — we have to get ready. Apparently, I’ve just been volunteered to host a grand old family dinner.” _

_ “Huh,” Chloe cocks her head, but doesn’t say anything more. _

_ “Detective? Have I broken you? I just told you we’re invited to a celestial family dinner.” _

_ A bubble of mirth escapes from Chloe then; it quickly turns into a nearly hysterical fit of giggles. “N-no, it’s just that your dad, who is also God, just voluntold you to host dinner at your nightclub for him and some angels!” _

_ "Race you to the shower!" Chloe calls, laughing as she takes off at a run. _

The best part of waking up at Lucifer’s penthouse, other than waking up next to the Devil himself, is luxuriating in Lucifer’s waterfall shower.

It’s a high-pressure rainfall shower, meaning that the water pours from above like real rain, but the pressure is easily adjustable on the touchscreen panel. The top of the shower is quite tall to account for Lucifer’s height, and the shower itself is the size of a walk-in closet.

Chloe’s barely shed the white button-down she always sleeps in at Lucifer’s when an arm grabs her around the waist. She squeals as Lucifer pulls her close, nuzzling her soft hair with his chin. “Going somewhere without me, Detective?” he rumbles, his voice dangerously low.

“Hm, no, you know, just the shower,” she manages.

“I should think I get first dibs since it is  _ my _ shower,” he teases.

“Huh. Well, first come, first serve,” she says, squirming against his hold. “Though I’ll make you a deal. We can share it.”

He peppers kisses down her neck, nibbling her ear as an answer. Her mouth opens and she arches against him, reaching an arm behind her to pull him closer. "Someone is coming first, and it won't be me," he whispers.

All of sudden, he pulls away. “Come on, Detective. Let’s hop in.” He scoops her up like she’s nothing and deposits her in the shower, where he immediately turns the warm water on and presses her against the glass. She arches against him, mouth open. The water feels magnificent, cascading over the both of them like a waterfall, like the heavens have opened up and blessed them with soft rain.

When Lucifer pulls away again, Chloe whimpers a bit at the loss of his lips, but that whimper quickly turns into a happy squeal as he turns her over, pressing her front against the clear glass. With her hair in his hands, he enters her slowly, pausing for a moment before she whimpers again. “Lucifer,  _ please _ .”

He acquiesces all too happily, thrusting and breathing hotly in her ear.

* * *

The good thing about shower sex is that you don’t need to go anywhere else to clean up.

Chloe discovers that Lucifer quite likes washing hair — her hair, specifically. “Let me take care of you, Detective,” he murmurs, lathering her hair with shampoo and massaging her scalp with gentle yet firm fingers. Another moan escapes her and she doesn’t have to turn around to know that he has a devilish grin on his face.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get any dirty thoughts about this, Lucifer,” she says.

“Oh no, Detective, all of me is _quite_ clean, I assure you.”

This earns him another eye roll, but Chloe thinks that if he weren’t so good at solving crimes and running a nightclub and you know, being the Devil, he could probably be a great professional hair washer.

She doesn’t tell him this, of course.

* * *

Once they’re all clean and toweled off (Lucifer has needed an extra 20 minutes to do God knows what in there; Chloe grins affectionately at this), it’s nearly 2pm.

She’s a little freaked out by everything they have to do in preparation for the Celestial Family Dinner, but she’s Chloe Decker, SuperMom, and she can do anything. Though she’s quite glad that Dan’s taken Trixie for the week — she does  _ not _ want her daughter near any of this right now.

“Why couldn’t we just have gone to one of my bigger houses?” Lucifer grouses as they begin setting up. “Even dear old Dad would appreciate the sunset view from the mansion in the hills, not this little penthouse.”

“I’m sure your dad wants to see where you live,” Chloe says truthfully.

“Right. Well, I hope He has some answers for us then.”

They’re quiet as a team moves Lucifer’s couches out of the way and bring in a long, narrow antique table that reminds Chloe a little of the one in The Last Supper.

The movers have done most of the heavy lifting (literally), but Lucifer can’t help but fuss at the little details — straightening out the starched white tablecloth, rearranging the china, polishing the glasses. It’s a little endearing, really, the way he’s nervously arranging everything like he wants to make a good impression.

It occurs to her that perhaps he does.

Chloe hasn’t seen Lucifer cook much (she takes care of breakfast when they’re together or they get takeout), but after he spent an hour debating between hiring a chef and cooking it all himself and pretending that he didn’t quite care either way, Chloe had enough.

They were running out of time, and Lucifer needed something to do with all that nervous energy.

So she ordered him to stay and cook while she got everything else organized and set up.

So, with a slightly forlorn  _ yes, Detective,  _ and armed with what looked like half of Erewhon, Lucifer had set to work.

The result is astonishing — Chloe hadn’t known Lucifer could cook like that. Though she supposes that after an eternity he should be fairly talented.

A beautiful charcuterie board is set with what Chloe’s sure is hundreds of dollars worth of cheese and meats, as well as nuts, crackers, and grapes so juicy, she can’t wait to plop one in her mouth. Apples are there too, a devilish nod to Eve and Eden, carved in the shape of a snake.

She suppresses a small snort. As jealous as she was of Eve, she can’t deny that it’s a little hilarious of him to flaunt the Original Sinner in front of his dad.

The finest bottles of wine are brought down from the cellar and lined up on the counter, along with the most expensive whiskey Lucifer has. Though he only really drinks expensive whisky, so Chloe doesn’t even want to ask how much this costs.

Everything is perfect, from the roast duck for the main course to the freshly baked bread, and of course the appetizers — _devil_ ed eggs (made red and quite spicy) and _devils_ on horseback (apparently, this is stuffed dates wrapped with bacon, but Chloe can’t get the image of Lucifer, quite high, riding on the horse out of her head). The grand finale is _devil’s_ food cake, a sinfully dark and indulgent cake that Lucifer had somehow had time to bake. Trix would  _ love  _ it, she thinks, and makes a mental note to save her daughter a piece.

Then she tastes the actual cake and tosses that idea out the window. It’s absolutely delicious, of course — dark, luxurious, and filled to the brim with chocolate — but has the unmistakably heady taste of alcohol. Chloe wonders how much Lucifer had even put in there.

But he’s here in his three-piece suit and dark red pocket square now and plunging a finger covered with that sinful chocolate frosting in her mouth, and she can’t form coherent thoughts anymore.

He’s just started to replace his finger with his mouth when the penthouse elevator  _ dings _ and Linda and Amenadiel step in, rolling baby Charlie’s stroller. If Linda is overwhelmed by her first meeting with her Heavenly Father-in-law, she doesn’t show it. She looks as calm, put together, and professional as ever, and Chloe gives her mad kudos for that.

She’s glad that she’s had time to consult with Linda over their outfits for this dinner, because what  _ does _ one wear to dinner with your boyfriend’s dad who also happens to be God?

Linda’s chosen a simple navy dress, all clean-cut lines and neat edges like the rest of her clothes. Chloe smooths her hand over her favorite cream cashmere sweater. She hasn’t felt like wearing a dress (something about feeling a need to be able to  _ run _ ), but she’s gone for a Maze-like pair of black leather leggings. Her hair is down and unbound, the way Lucifer likes it, and she’s swiped a coat of clear gloss on her lips.

_ (Lucifer can’t help but think she looks like Heaven and Sin wrapped in one, and licks his lips appreciatively.) _

The elevator  _ dings _ again. Two troublemakers have arrived.

Chloe’s relieved to see that Maze and Lucifer have somewhat made up; although both parties seem to still be hurting, neither are trying to stab each other, so Chloe counts that as a win.

The demon’s dressed in head-to-toe skintight black leather as usual. But the leather is quite shiny — Chloe suspects it’s been thoroughly cleaned. _Even demons wanted to look their best for God,_ she supposes.

Chloe surreptitiously checks Maze for knives when she hugs her, while Lucifer inclines a nod to his former right-hand woman. Michael hangs back behind Maze, looking deeply uncertain and a little pained, and if Chloe hadn’t been so goddamn  _ pissed _ at him she would’ve felt bad.

But the asshole had kidnapped her, so she feels zero pity. Zero.

It gives her a start to see that he is quite dressed up for the occasion. Unlike Maze, he’s  _ not _ dressed in his typical tweed jacket and gray turtleneck combo. No, instead of looking like a British history professor or accountant, he’s stolen a page from Lucifer’s book. Michae is attired in a grey three-piece that looks like it’s been plucked right out of Lucifer’s closet (was it?). He does, however, forego the perfectly-folded pocket square that Lucifer always boasts about, but the resemblance is eerie.

Chloe narrows her eyes, her hand itching toward the gun she doesn’t have on her at the moment, remembering a time when Michael pretended to be Lucifer in this very penthouse. Lucifer’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Ah, Mikey. Trying to emulate the best, are we now?”

Michael, surprising, does not engage. He silently hands Amenadiel a new toy for Charlie and Lucifer a bottle of high-end whiskey; both brothers accept his gifts with hard eyes and an uneasy silence.

“Man, this is awkward already,” Maze says gleefully, rubbing her hands together. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Chloe glares, Lucifer snorts, Michael rolls his eyes, Amenadiel takes a deep inhale, Linda smiles, and Charlie… well, Charlie cries.

“Just like Dad, to tell us all to show up and then be late to his own party,” Lucifer snipes, handing Charlie to Linda and rolling his eyes.

Right on cue, a silver mist fills the penthouse, followed by a blinding light. When the brightness clears, God Himself is standing there in front of the penthouse elevator.

“Hello, children,” he says benevolently. “Let us feast.”

And so they sit, serving themselves family-style from the giant serving platters in the middle of the table (Lucifer has refused to hire servers and refused to allow him or Chloe do any of the serving). Silence reigns as everyone stares down at their plates, waiting for someone to take the first bite.

“So… should we pray or… something?” Chloe tries, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

“And that’s your precious Miracle, Dad,” Michael snorts.

Lucifer is halfway out of his seat before Chloe can stop him; she tugs him back down.

“Now, Michael, be kind to your brother,” God says in the same perfectly nice tone. It creeps Chloe out a little, to be honest.

The meal begins with them chewing, soft music playing in the background. It’s only after a few songs that Chloe realizes — Lucifer has chosen this dinner’s soundtrack to be quite obviously devil-themed. She sneaks a glance at Lucifer and he’s smiling at her with a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

_**([Top half of this Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0TwzIN5q43LgpN1v5g1W3n?si=lP5cErN7SMC41524zfswAA) for the dinner soundtrack. )** _

“Now, I’d love to hear what you think, my Miracle. Tell me, how are you doing with everything?”

Chloe stares at God, blinking slowly. A part of her wants to lie, wants to tell him  _ oh, you know, it’s going well, just been kidnapped by one of your sons, that’s all. _

But it feels like the words can’t come out of her mouth. With a start, she realizes that she cannot lie.

_ What?  _ she thinks.  _ This is worse than “stealing” Lucifer’s mojo. _

So the words spill out instead in a tirade: “Well, first of all, I have a lot of thoughts. And questions. But please don’t call me ‘Miracle.’ My name is Chloe Decker and I am a person, not some _thing_ to be manipulated and moved around like a chess piece. You know, for the longest time, I thought my life wasn’t my own, that I was just placed on this Earth for Lucifer. And you didn’t even give me any cool mojo or anything like that!”

She takes a breath. “But, you know, I’ve come to peace with that. I’ll stand with Lucifer, because he is  _ good _ despite everything you did to him. I mean, condemning him to Hell for eternity? That seems a little harsh. No wonder he doesn’t trust you.”

Breathing hard, Chloe finishes her tirade and looks at God, then at the other angels-slash-humans-slash demons at the table. There’s a heavy silence, then —

“Dearie me!” Lucifer exclaims suddenly. “I haven’t even made introductions. Dad, meet Mazikeen, who once was Hell’s most brutal torturer. Linda Martin, who is Amenadiel’s baby mama and my current therapist. And my Detective, of course. But you already know her, since you quite literally put her in my path. Now, care to explain? And for Dad’s sake, please do not call her a Miracle again. Maybe she’ll shoot you — she’s prone to do that when she’s upset.”

God takes a breath languidly, as if this is just another Thursday night for him. “Patience, my son,” he says. “All will be clear in time.”

Chloe feels like she’s going to scream. Or pull a Lucifer-in-the-interrogation-room tactic and slam her hands on the table, getting to her feet, and getting all up in the Heavenly Father’s face like he’s some common criminal.

Maybe even do a  _ what do you desire _ mojo-look, because that would really help them get some answers. Never before has Chloe wished for more Luciferness from Lucifer and, well, everyone.

But everyone is simply gaping at the Almighty One. “Why the bloody Hell did you invite us here then?” Lucifer demands. “If not for some answers?”

God shrugs, something that looks strangely  _ mortal _ on the Heavenly Father, and unhurriedly sips his wine. “I thought we could use some family bonding. Besides, I wanted to meet your mates.”

Chloe is not surprised at God’s words, but Maze and Michael are low-key freaking out. Again, would’ve been funny that this unflappable pair is so riled up, but the situation seems a little terse to burst out in laughter.

Though Chloe  _ has _ wondered about the two of them ever since she walked in on them hooking up and figured out that Lucifer was not Lucifer, but in fact his weasely, deceptive twin.

Sudden anger sweeps through Chloe as Maze makes her declaration, God’s words fully sinking in, his passive approval of the humans (and demon) as acceptable “mates” for his precious, neglected sons.

She stands too, wishing that she were much taller, such is her towering fury. “I don’t need your approval!” Chloe declares, blue eyes alight with righteous rage.

_ (Lucifer thinks she may as well have been an avenging angel. He wonders if his father sees it as well.) _

“That’s my Detective,” Lucifer coos.

Chloe gives him a  _ look _ and rolls her eyes, but lets it slide. She has a weak spot for when he calls her “Detective,” and he knows it. She suspects it’s why he did it in the first place.

Amenadiel and Linda just sigh. All the yelling’s woken the baby again.

“Well, isn’t this nice?” God says, finishing his wine and standing. “Thanks for inviting us to dinner, Samael. Your cooking’s quite improved.”

And before Lucifer or anyone else can protest, He leaves in another annoyingly bright burst of light and mist.

* * *

“Guess I’ll get to cleaning up,” Chloe mutters, downing the rest of her wine.

“Well, bully for us,” Lucifer says sarcastically. “Bloody Hell, and I thought we were actually going to get some answers for once.”

“Now, Luci, don’t be angry—” Amenadiel starts.

“Lucifer, the cake was delicious—” Linda says at the same time.

The couple pauses and shares a sweet look. Their relationship is a strange one, but who is Chloe to judge? She and Lucifer have been dancing around each other for years, brought together and pulled together literally by the forces of Heaven and Hell.

Maze and Michael are quiet; both seem to be seething in rage, but doing it silently, which is unusual for the demon and the snarky archangel.

“I’m _awesome_!” Maze finally bursts out. “I don’t need God to tell me that. Ugh, I wish I had my knives,” she finishes with a growl.

“We know you’re awesome, Maze,” Linda soothes, as if she were an adult version of Charlie. In a way, Chloe supposes all celestial beings kind of are — a strange childishness present in these beings who were literally millennia old.

* * *

Finally, the penthouse is cleaned and the guests have gone. Surprisingly, nothing is broken and no blood was spilled — a win for a family that seemed very prone to fighting. Physical fighting.

Lucifer collapses on the couch, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. Chloe joins him with another glass of wine.

It’s been a long night.

“Well, it’s not as bad as I thought?” she offers.

He sighs. “Right. Well, I don’t know what I expected, that dear old Dad would actually give us some answers. I mean, he’s finally here on Earth and speaking to us, but if this is his way of delivering punishment, it’s not a very good one. I should know, I’m the reigning expert on punishment. It’s just another one of his manipulations, I’m sure…” he trails off, eyes blazing.

“We’ll figure out what he’s up to,” Chloe says, more confidently than she feels.

“Do you really think we can do that?”

“I’m not sure,” she says truthfully. Her eyes narrow. “Lucifer, earlier today… I didn’t want to tell your dad how I was truly feeling, much less rant at him, but somehow the truth just came out of me. Did he do something? Or is it like when I ‘stole your mojo’ — did I steal your unwillingness to lie too?”

He looks thoughtful now, the anger dissipating quickly as he turns this over in his mind. “As much as I’d like to say that Dad is manipulating you too, I don’t think you actually ‘stole’ my mojo, Detective. I think that Linda was right, as much as I hate to admit it — that when I allowed myself to become vulnerable and open up to you, I allowed you to have as much control of over me as I do over other people.”

“And the truthfulness?”

“Detective,” his voice is serious. “Did you really want to lie?”

It’s her turn to look thoughtful. “No, no, not really. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind.”

“That’s my detective,” he says, just like he did earlier. But this time, she plants her lips on his, cutting him off.

“I love you, Lucifer,” she says between kisses.

“And I you, Chloe.”

That night, they make  _ very _ good use of the leftover chocolate cake.

**END.**


End file.
